


Replay

by AdamantSteve



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Ageplay, Established Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither Phil nor Clint had a great first time, be it late and lacklustre or early and awkward. They fall into a roleplay where they’re mid to late teens and 'lose their virginities' together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replay

**Author's Note:**

> Tagged ageplay since they pretend they're mid-teens though they are BOTH pretending to be younger than they are. Incase you were hoping for there to be daddykink type stuff.
> 
> Beta read by [Dunicha](http://www.dunicha.tumblr.com), though copiously rejigged by me since then. I wrote this a while ago.
> 
> For the 'virginfic/secretly a virgin' square of my Trope Bingo card.

"When are your parents gonna be back?" Clint panted, throwing the ball at Phil. The hoop had been there when Phil had moved in and he'd never taken it down, and since he and Clint played one on one in the gym anyway it got a fair amount of use since Clint had moved in. Phil frowned in confusion before his mouth turned into a goofy smile and he tossed the ball back. "Hours," he said. "You can stay for dinner if you want? My... mom left money for pizza."

Clint bounced the ball and ran out of Phil's range before shooting, and really, it wasn't a fair match when one player was _the world's greatest marksman_. The ball slid through the net and thunked on the concrete, bouncing into Phil's waiting hands. "Sure! But no pineapple," Clint said. 

Phil shrugged, the ball resting between his wrist and his hip. "You can choose."

 

They talked about work while they ate, which didn’t really fit with the context but neither of them cared. Neither of them were especially wedded to the idea of whatever this was. They'd never really talked about it properly, or planned anything out, it just sort of happened like this sometimes. Talking over redesigns of the Helicarrier and Fury’s new eyepatch didn’t really change the lazy, contented feel of each other. Neither of them casually touched the other like they normally did when they were at home, though. They just ate pizza and drank coke, paying little attention to the white noise of the music videos on the TV. It was the same as any other meal they ate together except for all the little ways it wasn't: Clint in those silky basketball shorts, sprawled across the floor and the couch, Phil stopping himself from ruffling Clint's hair like he usually would and Clint ignoring the feet he’d usually squeeze.

 

This was all a replay in a way, of Phil's stories where he wished he'd done things that he hadn't had the nerve to do and Clint’s where the opposite held true. This time, Phil was the one who, steeling himself despite how pretend it all was, made the first move. He poked Clint with a toe, a small jab to his side that had him twisting, the crust of a pizza hanging in midair. "Wanna see my room?" 

Clint shrugged, "Sure," and waited for Phil to stand. He rolled his eyes when Phil hesitated. 

"Uh, my mom doesn't let me eat in my room," he said, even though Clint knew it was just Phil's preference not to get crumbs all over the house.

"Such a dork," Clint said, tossing the crust in the box and following Phil to the spare room.

 

They hadn't planned for the spare room to become this weird homage to teenage Phil, but it was just practical to have a single bed in the box room for guests and it happened to be kind of convenient to keep all the Cap stuff in one place. The posters were in tasteful frames instead of being tacked up, and the bedding was just plain blue instead of stars and stripes, so it wasn't all that weird, except, again, in this context it sort of was.

 

"Wow, you really are a Cap nerd," Clint said on entering, sitting on the bed and drawing his feet up, looking around at things he’d helped hang like he’d never seen them before. Phil was rubbing the back of his neck. "Some of it's cool, though," Clint said quickly. "Got any action figures?" Phil hid a grin and knelt next to the bed, pulling out a bin of the crappy action figures that they actually played with sometimes. "I don't really play with them anymore," Phil lied, but Clint wasn't paying attention, rifling through the box for the Hawkeyes. "Sure you don't."

 

Phil pulled out a Captain America which inexplicably had a cape and sat next to Clint on the bed, fiddling with the way the cape sat on his plastic shoulders. "Do you think I'm a nerd?" Phil asked quietly. "Yeah, but you're alright I guess." Clint leaned down and pulled out a figure of "SHIELD agent" - a nameless male doll with a tiny suit and sunglasses that were lost somewhere in the depths of the box. Phil watched as he ran a finger over the face of the doll, generic features and more hair than he'd ever known Phil to have. "You ever kissed anyone, Phil?" he asked, and even in make believe, Phil hadn’t managed to make the first move.

 

"No," he answered, and Clint couldn't believe he was actually for real blushing. "What about Angie Riggins?" - Phil's highschool girlfriend who he’d never plucked up the courage to even kiss, mostly because he didn't really want to. "No. What about you?"

 

Sometimes Clint would have kissed someone before, and he'd show Phil just how it's done, teach him everything he'd learned. But other times he'd be as innocent as Phil. "Naw." 

Phil rubbed a finger over the chipped paint of Cap's hair, sunny yellow with blue plastic underneath. 

"Wanna try?" Phil asked, shrugging one shoulder in an attempt to appear nonchalant. Like there was so much riding on this replayed game of pretend and as if Clint was going to say no.

 

"Sure," Clint replied. "I guess."

 

They were close enough that they could awkwardly lean towards one another and slowly move closer til they were breathing the same air. Phil swallowed before making the final move forwards, pressing his closed lips to Clint's. Clint kept his mouth closed and waited for Phil to open his before adding a little tongue, clumsy enough to make it feel almost like a first kiss, as though they hadn't kissed each other a million times. It was warm and wet and soft, a sweet kiss with neither of them demanding much of anything, but they still came out of it short of breath. "That felt good," Phil grinned, and just sort of stared at Clint in disbelief. 

"Wanna do it again?" Phil nodded and Clint came closer for the next kiss, a little more forthright but no less sweet. They kept their hands to themselves, at least til the third one, when Phil boldly rested a hand on Clint's knee.

 

From there on, they'd sometimes just make out for hours, or rut against one another til they came in their pants, or Phil's 'parents would come home' and they’d have to quietly hurry. But the best times, when nothing else was going on, they'd fly through the stages of an adolescent romance in a matter of minutes, kissing turning into necking turning into clumsy groping. Phil's real teenage bedroom, or Clint's whenever they went that way with it, had never had lube or condoms in it, but the future version with it's clean sheets and no socks on the floor always did.

 

This time, when Clint crowded Phil enough to have them both sliding down the bed to lay with Phil on top of Clint’s chest, they bypassed some of the intermediate steps and moved from clumsy pawing at each others erections to Phil asking breathlessly: "Have you ever gone all the way?"

 

Clint's eyes were impossibly huge so close like this, wide and open and so young looking. "Have you?" he asked as he shook his head. 

"No. But. My parents won't be home for... a while."

 

For all they talked about it, they never really needed to discuss who'd do what, it was a given that Phil would fuck Clint, careful and sweet and kind, taking care of him and making pains to have their 'first times' be special. All sweet and perfect with the high school boyfriend neither of them had ever had. 

 

The clumsiness of it was all a part of it, and if either of them wanted it a different way they'd say they’d say they’d done it before and know the ropes already, Clint showing Phil just how to do it or Phil guiding him through it with attention and care. That was good too, but when Phil would gingerly press him open, so carefully and caringly, full of ‘does it hurt?’s and ‘are you sure?’s, it was just _right_. Clint would be impatient as always, but Phil would always go slow when they were like this, and Clint loved him for it anyway.

 

Sometimes they'd use condoms, depending on whatever their deals were, but this time they were both just kids in love, first time for them both, so Phil sank into him slowly, a quiet look of desperation on his face as if he couldn't believe this was actually happening. "Are you ok?" he asked, halfway in, and Clint nodded back. "Yeah, yeah I'm good. Are you alright?" Phil let out a tiny noise. "Feels so good Clint, oh my god."

 

He'd go slow til Clint started to arch his back a little, wrap his legs around Phil and pull him into him, his arms just fisting in the sheets, not sure of where to touch til Phil would thread his fingers into his and hold on. 

 

They’d usually slip forwards halfway through, the tricks they knew about how to get the other off coming into play and the whole thing turning a little dirtier, but still under the facade they started with. Usually, if it was a ‘first time’, Phil would pull out and come on Clint’s belly, since that was the position they most frequently ended up in, but sometimes Clint would hold on to him and tell him he wanted it this way, wanted to see what it’d feel like inside, and Phil could only oblige. 

 

Clint would come between them or Phil would jerk him off afterwards as they lay panting side by side. And sometimes that was the end of it, they’d clean up and change the sheets and Phil would do some paperwork or they’d watch TV, but other times they’d lay there and go over it all, making sure they were both ok and talking about the next time they tried it out, full of promises and secrets and gentle kisses. 


End file.
